Amanda Widdershins was itching to move out

Amanda Widdershins was itching to move out of her modern, stylish, sterile condo. She missed the old farmhouse and all that attended it. She would ask Baba Grozna for advice, but

the literal witch stopped taking her calls. "You wished for Manhattan flat," Grozna last told her, "And now you want to live upstate? Make up your mind!" Amanda's three wishes

where down to one now, so she thought hard, muttering "Anything but Alaska.." Next thing Amanda knew she was lying in an Igloo with a heavyset Eskimo who smelled like a swamp onion

The onion man turned to her violently. She adhusted her eyes and wiped them from sleep, when all of a sudden a huge man came into focus. He was ugly and had shaggy, blonde hair.

As the day moved forward, I came to enjoy the unpleasant odor. I made a pact to myself to never was my hand again. Later in the week I met a beautiful southern belle by the name of

Azalea Medulla Oblongata who, contrary to all God given laws of propriety and decorum, asked me for my hand in marriage. "You & your malodorous hand," she added as an afterthought.

But how could I accept, when I was already betrothed to my dearest Aurora Borealis. Resolving not to reproach her for her gauche proposition, I replied: "Madame Oblongata, surely

polyamority isn't for someone of your statuesque proportions! It would crush sweet Aurura Borealis! But I'll fit you in on Tuesday evenings if you're desperate." Mme Oblongata arch

ed her back, catlike, and then swept past me. My eyes followed her & it was then I saw at the base of her lovely neck...the code I'd been searching for. This isn't over. Not yet.